


XOXO

by CarnalCoast



Category: South Park
Genre: Coming of Age, Gen, Homophobic Language, M/M, Middle School, Pen Pals, Secret Admirer, Sexuality Crisis, hints of stylenny, k2challenge18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 09:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16302314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnalCoast/pseuds/CarnalCoast
Summary: hey bby do u want ur dik succ? leave answer in locker 222 xoxoKyle impassively glared at the affronting words. This was obviously a prank. It had to be.His writing ended up just as messy as the sender's, but he didn't have much time.no thx





	XOXO

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @townycod13's k2 fanfic challenge under the 'secret penpal' prompt!
> 
> Thank you to my beta tumblr user @unstablecoffeebean <3 !!

Kyle let out a sigh of relief as the air-conditioned breeze of the locker-room graced his sweat-caked skin. He enjoyed P.E., but an unusually hot and humid day in South Park never bode well for outdoor exercise. By the time class was over and the slowest kids were completing their final laps around the track, everyone was groaning from the gross feeling of perspiration dripping down their necks and backs. Cartman was the loudest.

“That was stupid! If coach makes us go out there in that heat again I’m gonna fucking kill myself you guys.”

As usual, Kyle ignored him. He had to admit, it wasn’t _that_ hot. Snow was still on the ground. And Cartman claimed constipation to get out of running again, so he had fuck all to complain about.

Paying no mind to the sweaty, loud boys around him, Kyle went straight to his locker and took off his shirt as he unlocked it, eager as ever to get the hell out of there. Usually he’d stay to dick around with the guys, but he had an algebra test coming up and could use the extra ten minutes to study.

His thoughts of math were interrupted when, as he opened his locker door, a piece of notebook paper nearly fluttered to the ground. He caught it on the way, eyebrow raised. So, someone had clearly shoved a note in his locker during P.E. Instinctively, he leaned further into his locker to shield the sight from anyone—or, Cartman. If this was something serious or embarrassing, it would only cause trouble.

Quickly, he unfolded the scrap, and was met with a messy but readable scrawl.

 

_hey bby do u want ur dik succ? leave answer in locker 222 xoxo_

 

He settled for an impassive glare at the affronting words. This was obviously a prank. A girl couldn’t have gotten in here, and the only known gay boys in the entirety of their small seventh grade class—maybe even the whole middle school, who was to say?—were happily dating each other.

Why was he even trying to analyze it?

Shaking his head, he changed clothes and, right before closing his locker, dove into his backpack for a pen. His writing ended up just as messy as the sender’s, but he didn’t have much time.

 

_no thx_

 

“Good luck on that test, Kyle.”

“Thanks, dude,” Kyle replied brightly as he passed his best friend with the scrap of paper crumpled up in his fist, his reply now on the other side. Taking the back exit which passed by the empty, unused lockers, he swiftly opened Abandoned Locker 222 and threw the note inside.

Did he know why he was bothering with this? Not exactly. But it’s not as if it would do any harm, so…

By the time he was staring at quadratic equations in a stagnantly quiet classroom, he’d already forgotten all about it.

 

 

 

 

...Which is why, when he opened his locker after school to get ready for basketball practice, he was a bit dumbfounded by the lengthier note that was taped to the locker’s back wall, screaming to be read. He ripped it off and stared down at the words in alarm.

 

_o ok its not like i think ur super hot or anythin_

_not like i wanna wrap my lips around that steaming long circumsized piece of meat u hav there_

_jk jk_

_fr ur the best looking guy here tho like thats what i actually meant to say the first time_

_fuk cartman for saying that ur eyes are too far apart thats so annoying_

_i think they are the perfect length apart_

_xoxo_

 

Though his right eye minutely twitched at the second line, Kyle quickly honed in on one detail of the note. A few days ago, Cartman had come up with a new and exciting thing to torment him over—the space between his eyes. But it wasn’t as if everyone had witnessed their arguing. Stan and Kenny had been there, of course. Also Token, Clyde…

Kyle frowned, sifting through his memories. It’d happened a number of times throughout the day; he couldn’t remember _everyone_ who had seen them. It wasn’t a good enough hint to point to the mystery sender’s identity. They were also someone who knew which gym locker was his, but they could’ve found that out any number of ways…

“Kyle, you alright man?” Token’s concerned voice from his left startled him, and he instinctively crumpled the note, looking to his teammate with a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Kyle was grateful it was Token; most others would probably want to see the note, but Token merely raised his eyebrows and looked back to his own locker. It was likely less out of consideration and more out of a strong desire to mind his own business in a town where even slightly associating with “Stan’s Gang” could quickly lead to death, disease, or a myriad of other ailments, but… Kyle still appreciated it.

Once he was sure no one was looking, he smoothed out the paper and scribbled on the back again. The note hadn’t asked for a response this time, so he was aware this might not be fruitful, but he was now a mixture of annoyed and intrigued—the combination of emotions that usually urged him into taking action.

 

_i said no thx_

_who are you?_

He waited until practice was over and the room was mostly empty to put it in locker 222, mind reeling. It was annoying and must be a prank; that’s all. No one really cared that much about the fucking space between his eyes.

 

 

 

 

To Kyle’s surprise, he received another note the next day. It was becoming a thing. It could probably continue. He hated that he didn’t hate it that much.

 

_and i said jk jk its cool_

_well there wouldnt be any fun in telling you who i am, right?_

_i hope you have a good thursday xoxo_

Each day came another note or two, depending on if he had P.E. and basketball practice. It was surreal; some kid was going to the hassle of running back and forth from that abandoned locker, just to talk to him like this?

 

_i’m just curious_

_my day is fine_

_why are you sending me these?_

 

Were they someone who used the locker room often—on a sports team perhaps? Kyle kept a closer eye out, but he didn’t see anyone acting strange around the empty section of lockers, or his own for that matter.

_it wouldnt be fun if i told you that either_

_dont you just wanna talk?_

_i heard that u helped christine everett with her math homework, tryna tap that?_

_xoxo_

By the next week, it was routine, Kyle both sending and receiving letters from the abandoned locker rather than his own, per the mystery kid’s request. It was mundane conversation, not much different from what he talked about with his friends, but shadowed by the distinct knowledge that he had _no idea_ who this was. He knew it was dangerous—this person could be _anyone—_ but there was something genuine about the other’s writing that made him let his guard down.

 

_i think youre right about jason and his friends being too mean to esther_

_i just didnt say anything because i felt peer pressure or something_

_sorry_

_next time i agree with u on something controversial ill speak up tho_

_xoxo_

The handwriting was changed up every two letters or so—probably in an effort to conceal his identity—but Kyle still found himself believing all the words. After this much time, it couldn’t just be a prank.

 

_okay i guess i’ll tell you how it is_

_to be honest i don’t like her like that and i wish stan would stop bothering me about it_

_not that i think she’s a bad person or that he’s being annoying about it_

_it’s just a me problem i guess_

 

The ‘xoxo’ at the end of the mystery kid’s notes was the only consistent thing about them, truthfully. When Kyle complained a bit about the messy handwriting and misspellings, the next day he was suddenly graced with elegant cursive, perfect punctuation, the whole nine yards.

 

_Okay Kyle, I’ll fulfill your wishes if this is what you truly desire._

_I hope an enhanced degree of eloquence will finally help you understand that you secretly do crave the heavenly feeling of your engorged penis being engulfed into my luscious mouth._

_...That was a merely a jest._

_Like, a hearkening to the beginning of our enticing and intimate correspondence._

_Remember that fateful day? When I inquired so fervently as to the chance of your dicque being succque?_

_Such simpler times._

_I hope this letter finds you well, paramour._

_X O X O_

Kyle was caught between laughing and crying on the locker room bench.

 

_please never ever do that again_

_i regret complaining_

He wracked his brain trying to figure it out; was this a friend of his, or an acquaintance, or someone he’s never talked to? All he could do was wait for the mystery kid to slip up and unconsciously offer hints that could eventually point to an identity. It happened, not often, but occasionally.

_your speech was good today_

_fuk cartman for booing_

_ok tbh i wasnt rly paying attention to what it was about but im sure it was good xoxo_

So, he was in his English class. It didn’t mean much, but it did get him excited, eager to learn more about his penpal.

 

_thanks_

_do you mind if i vent a little_

_i’m just so annoyed this week and no one cares or gets it_

As three and four weeks passed, the topics of their notes became more intense and meaningful.

 

_thanks_

_this morning my mom got on me for staying past curfew last weekend and she just won’t let up_

_like i get it i’ll try not to do it again, can’t you just calm the fuck down for once_

_and stan is spending the whole day being a pussy talking about his problems with wendy like all of them aren’t easily solved by some basic kindergarten-level communication_

_i can only take so much of people yelling to me about stupid shit, yanno_

_idk that’s it everyone needs to chill i hate it_

He didn’t know why, but he trusted this person, whom he couldn’t even match with a face or name. It was both uncomfortable and exhilarating at the same time. _Anyone_ could look into that locker and pick up that note, revealing his innermost thoughts.

 

_hey dw im sure itll calm down in a few days_

_cartman just is antagonizing wendy again which makes her more irritable which makes her take it out on stan over small shitty things he does, its happened before itll happen again_

_just try to be a little nicer to stan, as girly as that sounds. hes trusting you by venting to you about all that shit, and as his best bro you should give him some advice in a way that he can understand._

_u have been acting justtt a bit like a dick._

_not that i dont still think youre sexy_

_just, you gotta chill too. your shirt was on inside out for like half the day, dont think i didnt notice_

_xoxo_

This person’s surprisingly accurate analysis of the situation didn’t go lost on Kyle, but he didn’t comment on it. He was more focused on the last couple lines.

 

 

 

 

_did you notice fatass is on a streak of calling craig and tweek fags again?_

_i thought he stopped fixating on that but he started doing it nonstop yesterday and i’m so fucking ready to kill someone_

_it’s just like way overd-_

“Dude, I think my life is over.” 

Stan’s hopeless announcement was accompanied by his lunch tray slamming on the table next to Kyle’s arm, and he quickly shifted it to hide the paper, graphite scratching a line far across his words. He looked to his best friend with eyes glazed over in annoyance, smoothly shoving the half-written note in his pocket. The other boys would soon be joining them anyway.

“Again? I thought you guys patched things up.” He didn’t let a hint of irritation grace his voice, remembering last Thursday’s letter. If anyone secretly thought he was being a dick, he owed it to himself to prove them wrong, and maybe reevaluate his attitude a little.

“Yeah, we did. But…” Stan sighed, staring at his misshapen pizza slice with eyes full of dejection which softened Kyle’s expression. “Maybe it’s just time to stop. Throw in the towel. Things aren’t the same.”

“Yeah?”

Butters and Kenny arrived at the table, slowly trailed by Cartman, Craig, and Token, most of whom Kyle nodded to.

“Yeah. I dunno, at this point I feel like I’m just being with her to… be with someone? Which I think is bad. And she thinks worse of me the longer she’s with me, which just sucks. But it’s scary to actually think this’ll be it.”

Kyle let out a subtle huff of disdain, unable to hold it in after hearing the same shit for a week, though he was hopeful for Stan’s outlook. If they at least took a break, it would probably be better. For everyone.

“You’re probably right, dude.”

Kenny’s muffled voice piped up, everyone managing to catch the words, “Just do whatever ya think is best, man. You’ll be okay.” Kyle eyed Kenny’s lunch—or, lack thereof. A can of Dr. Pepper. He pursed his lips.

Stan attempted a smile. “Thanks-“

“Okay, so,” Cartman butted in amid a mouthful of burrito, making Butters, who sat next to him, cringe. “Not that this isn’t nice, but we’re sick of hearing about your faggy problems, Stan. What’s more important is that it’s almost October, which means-“

“Damn it Cartman! What’s faggy about Stan having problems with his _girlfriend?!_ ” Kyle interjected and slammed on the table, all eyes pointing at him warily. If he heard that word out of his goddamn mouth _one more time-_

“Dude, ‘what’s faggy about Stan?’ I could make a list. One for you too, _Kahl._ ” Cartman didn’t seem affected in the slightest, shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth.

“ _Why_ do you suddenly think _everything_ is faggy-?!”

“Does it really matter, dude? It’s just Cartman,” Stan couldn’t help but interrupt, though he knew it was pointless. Saying _“it’s just Cartman”_ to Kyle only made him angrier when he was already worked up.

“It’s fucking _annoying_ and _unnecessary_ when he says it in every other sentence. Just shut the fuck up, dude.” Kyle glared at him intently, and Cartman merely squinted back, the silence potent. Everyone else was rolling their eyes, Kyle was too sure, but he didn’t care. Cartman eventually smirked.

“You’re awfully sensitive about this, Kahl. _Hiding_ something?” He learned forward, biting his lower lip in preparation, and Kyle gritted his teeth. “ _Fag-“_

“Fuck this,” Kyle announced, picking up his tray and jerking to his feet. “And fuck you.”

“What a bitch!” He heard Cartman’s overdramatic laughing behind him, but couldn’t be bothered. And he felt bad for leaving Stan when he was going through it again, but…

He shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth before dumping his tray in the trash, headed for the locker room.

 

 

 

 

The note was ripped and messy, so he scrapped it. He let his stream of consciousness fly free onto the paper, no thought put into it.

 

_idk why cartman is annoying me so much_

_like, stan is right, hes always been like this and i shouldnt be caught off guard. im not!_

_im just really frustrated and idk why_

_middle school is garbage_

_i wish_

His pencil stopped short, eyes burning a hole into the paper.

 

_i wish i had someone who i liked being around all the time_

Feeling stupid, he threw it into locker 222.

When he sat next to Stan in Social Studies, he looked down at his desk. “Sorry for bailing.”

“Hey, it’s cool. Everyone needs a break from Cartman sometimes.” Hearing his casual tone, Kyle looked up at him and smiled. It was okay to relax now, Stan was telling him. “I don’t know what’s up with him this week.”

“Me neither, but it’s nothing good.”

The late bell rang, and Kyle tried to focus on the ensuing lesson, despite his brain screaming at him for writing such a whiny, prissy, reckless letter.

 

 

 

 

After the last bell of the day rang, his wishes were granted. Mystery kid, and seemingly _only_ mystery kid, had gotten the note, and he had a lot to say.

 

_let me tell u something buddy_

_theres no one that anyone can like being around alllll the time. at least i dont think so_

_but if a loving happy relationship is what u want, u could totally go get it_

_i just hope youd try it out for the right reasons_

_like_

_okay this is not me trying to tease or patronize u in any way_

_but r u sure ur not so upset at cartman because u feel personally attacked when he says fag?_

_see, craig doesnt give a shit because hes already secure in his sexuality. he doesnt care at all_

_the fact that you care so much about it may have something to do with your own feelings_

_cus like lets be real, ur not offended for anyone else. everyone knows that craig doesnt need or want other people to be offended for him_

_im not trying to say ur totally gay or anything im just saying that u should think about it_

_hell im not straight and u know that by now, i said i wanna suck ur fuckin dick_

_soooo u dont gotta worry about talking about it with me_

_im not a prick about that kind of stuff_

_its natural if ur going thru changes, remember sex ed_

_xoxo_

He scanned the paper two, three times, an impenetrable frown on his face. He didn’t even want to start thinking about it, but it was already happening.

Not having a lot of time, he shoved the note in his coat pocket and ran to the bus. It’d be dealt with later.

He willed his breathing to appear natural as he climbed the school bus steps; two-thirds of the seats were already filled up by now. On his way to his usual seat next to Stan, he spotted Kenny next to Token. Kenny never really stuck to one seat; though Kyle wouldn’t call him a social butterfly, since the boy wasn’t too talkative, he migrated between friend groups effortlessly.

Stan was behind the two. Sitting down in the aisle spot, Kyle took a deep, meditative breath. Stan was staring at his phone screen and asked without looking up, “Do you wanna come over for some Counter-Strike? Or like, anything you wanna play. Kenny’s coming too. Just us.”

“…Sure.” Kyle stared up at the ceiling of the bus, motionless as he felt the wheels start turning beneath them. He was eager to start thinking—thinking up a response to this letter, a plan for his future, fuck, maybe just of what he could say to Stan right now to pass the time. But everything stalled in his head, at _“Okay, so your identity is officially a mess right now.”_

“I think I’m going to do it tomorrow. At least tell her that I need a break. It’s for the best.”

“Mhm.”

“…Dude.” Stan didn’t continue, so Kyle tilted his head just enough to make eye contact. His friend had an eyebrow raised in a strange mixture of perplexity and sadness. “You look… like you went through it today. What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Uh…” Right, this was Stan. He could communicate more earnestly. “Shit’s fucked up.”

“Huh. Yeah, it is.” Thanks, Stan.

No one else was home when the three arrived at Stan’s house, something they were all thankful for. As usual, they raided the fridge before setting up in the living room. Kyle insisted to sit the first round out.

“Really dude? All the controllers work.” Stan looked a bit like a kicked puppy, but Kyle just needed his time with his shitty Lunchables pizza and a side of grapes right now.

“Yeah, I’ll just watch for a bit. I wanna eat this and it just might take all of my concentration.”

His best friend looked back to the television, voice deadpan with acceptance. “Weak. Did Cartman get you so pissed that you ran off and committed murder in between classes or something? And now you’re going through a moral crisis? 

“Shut up. I’ll come in later.”

When he did finally decide to join, Stan was lamenting his lack of soda and went to the kitchen for a refill. Kyle took his usual spot on the floor between them, reaching to plug in his controller. Kenny spoke up from behind his hood, and Kyle glanced to him.

“Kyle, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I, uh…” He tried to focus on something—Kenny’s own Lunchables pizza, also taken from Stan’s fridge, was long eaten. Yeah. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Without asking, he picked up Kenny’s trash and took it to the kitchen to throw out and exchange for—pretzels, sure, whatever. Stan asked if he wanted more soda, and he shook his head.

“Here,” he offered when he sat down again, plopping the bag of pretzels into Kenny’s lap. Kenny looked down at them with a hint of surprise, before meeting his gaze again. Most people would probably find him hard to read, but Kyle could tell what he was thinking—the natural consequence of knowing someone for most of your life.

“Thanks. Well, don’t let Cartman get to ya. Or, anyone. It’s not that serious, you’ve just gotta learn to chill sometimes, dude.”

Kyle blinked, suddenly finding the eye contact a bit too much. “…Yeah. I know.”

Kenny looked like he was going to say more, but Stan walked back in, and he swiftly turned to open up the bag in his lap. Kyle sighed.

 

 

 

 

_your note really threw me for a loop yesterday_

_so i guess that shows you that you’re onto something_

_is that what you want me to say? fuck man i’m sorry i just can’t help but feel a little pissed at you_

_because i would never even consider me being gay_

_not that there’s anything wrong with being gay_

_but it’s not something i ever thought about. for me._

_and here i am talking about it with someone i don’t even know. instead of to a best friend or family member. just some random dude who wanted to suck my dick?_

_i didn’t even know that someone other than tweek and craig was gay. or bi, or whatever you are._

_like, you’re in at least a few of my classes, and i must see you regularly. but i never think about other people in that way._

_i guess it’s immature of me to think that being straight is the default. i think wendy has said that._

_i am open-minded, i just did not see this as an option for me, or. a realm of possibility._

Kyle steadied his pencil on the paper, breathing out slowly through his nose. Classmates passed overhead, but he was hunched over well enough that they wouldn’t be able to see what he was writing from where he was sitting in front of his locker, with his knees pulled in. He needed to get this done before this morning’s science lesson demanded his focus, or else it’d just keep bothering him, so he took in a sharp breath and jumped the hurdle.

 

_maybe i am gay._

“Agh!”

A sharp pressure connected with his left knee, and Kyle winced as he was tripped over, legs splaying and binder flopping to the floor along with his many papers. He rubbed his knee and looked up at the offender—Tweek, with Wendy beside him.

Wendy, who was going to be broken up with today, presumably. Kyle wasn’t completely sure that would pan out, but he had hope.

“S-Sorry Kyle!” Tweek looked like he’d been through the wringer an extra few times this morning, pale-faced and a bright fuchsia band-aid on the bridge of his nose, so Kyle quickly relaxed and smiled reassuringly at him.

“It’s cool, dude.” He stood up, grabbing his binder and momentarily leaving most of his homework on the floor. “Studied for this science quiz? I was up way too late for it.” A half-lie. He was up too late, but it sure wasn’t because of the quiz.

Tweek winced, the motion turning into a harsh twitch halfway. “Dude, my brain is t-too mixed up for this shit right now! Ugh, W-Wendy and I are going over some of the formulas now, i-if…”

Kyle nodded. “Cool, I’ll join.” He turned to walk with them, but was struck with an unfortunate scene. Wendy had a familiar paper in her hand, staring intently at it. Before Kyle could so much as breath, she looked back up and spoke.

“Tweek, go save us four seats, please? I want Red to go over the formulas before class too.”

“Agh! Okay!” At least Tweek didn’t seem to notice anything off, leaving them behind to enter the classroom a few doors down.

“Uh, Wendy—” Shit. Why didn’t he pick everything off the floor immediately? _Especially_ now? Maybe he just assumed neither Tweek nor Wendy would be so fucking _nosy._ He swiftly gathered up the rest of the papers at his feet, shoving them in the binder and feeling himself gradually tense up like a tightly wound spring.

“Kyle, sorry. I didn’t even see that much—”

“You _obviously_ saw enough. So…” Kyle straightened up and faced her, trying not to glare too much. At least her eyes looked a little guilty.

Her mouth, however, looked like it was trying to hold back a genuine smile. “I… think it’s nice. You have a penpal? Who you don’t know about?”

“I’m not interested in talking about it with anyone. Just give it back, please.” The girls getting a hold of this information was _not_ a good situation to be in, and Kyle knew it. His eyes were glued to that paper, which she was keeping loosely held in her gloved hand.

“I’m not trying to tease, I’m serious…” She pouted a little, but reached out the paper, which Kyle grabbed with a terse nod. He moved to pass her, but Wendy grabbed his arm. “Really, is this about the sexuality stuff? Because it’s normal—”

“Don’t say that so loud!” Kyle hissed, looking around them before relenting and leaning against the lockers. “It’s not like that. Just…” He sighed, and Wendy crossed her arms, clearly in disbelief. Right. Maybe he could, at least, get her to promise confidentiality.

“Just, this was a really personal letter. You can’t tell anyone. Please? Not even Stan. There’s no _reason_ to tell anyone.”

“Hey, you don’t need to worry about that!” She nearly cut him off, raising her hands reassuringly. “I’m not interested in telling anyone. Including Stan. It’s your stuff, and I’m sorry for snooping. I’m just interested in…”

She blushed faintly, and Kyle narrowed his eyes. Noticing, she clenched her fists. “Well, sue me, sending notes talking about deep stuff is _sort of_ cute! Who’re you sending it to?”

“Don’t even ask. I don’t know who this person is.”

He could practically feel the intrigue emanating off her now, and he almost grimaced. Shouldn’t have said that.

“Really? You have no idea who it is?” _How romantic._ Kyle shrugged, trying to feign as much disinterest as possible in hopes that she’d drop it.

“It’s some boy in our grade, shares some classes with me. That’s all I know. Look, just promise you’ll keep it to yourself and never speak of it again. And we can act like nothing happened. Good?”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, mumbling _“boys”_ under her breath, but nodded. “Fine. I promise. Let’s just get to class, then.”

Kyle nodded as well, happy for the excruciating two minutes to be over and done with. Though he knew to be thankful that it was Wendy and not someone else—girl or guy, to be honest. He shuddered, thinking of the possibilities. Wendy and he at least shared enough common interests and values to have each other’s backs, most of the time.

True to her word, she didn’t mention it the rest of the day. Including when Stan broke up with her at recess.

His best friend came walking back to their group with a sigh of sorrowful relief, and Kyle himself breathed his own sigh of relief when there were no weird looks thrown his way.

“It’ll be okay, dude.” He patted Stan on the back, and his best friend merely stared at the snow-covered ground, leaning his head on his hands. At least, dealing with his own turmoil, Stan shouldn’t immediately notice Kyle having his own issues. He had that to be thankful for too, as guilty as it made him feel.

 

 

 

 

Waiting for a response was excruciating. Kyle sat through classes tapping his mechanical pencil on every available surface, rethinking his note over and over in his head. He should’ve rewritten it; he was so taken aback after Wendy read it that he instead hurriedly finished it and threw it into the locker without a second glance. He didn’t want to end up holding onto it forever in fear.

…Well, would that have been so bad? If he’d just never responded, and the notes ended all together? Would it be bad to never consider this again, and instead just try to live as normal of a life as possible without these thoughts entering his brain? Kyle stared at the paper on his desk, worksheet long completed, feeling aimless.

“Can I see what you answered for the last question?” A familiarly muffled voice piped up from behind him, and Kyle turned around. Normally, he wouldn’t just share his answers upfront, but Kenny had been making more of an effort in English lately, and Kyle noticed.

“Yeah. Here,” Kyle put his paper on Kenny’s desk, and could sense Kenny smiling from underneath his hood. He swore the fabric moved in tandem with his facial expressions.

As he watched him write, it became clear that Kenny was just copying his answer, but Kyle couldn’t bring himself to complain. “…So, what do you think about Wendy and Stan?” It was the last class of the day, and the teacher didn’t seem to care about everyone’s chatter, so Kyle figured it was safe to ask.

Kenny finished his sentence before responding, staring thoughtfully at the paper. “...Think it’s good. Maybe Stan’ll finally branch out and wanna bang other people now.”

 _People._ Kyle hummed and nodded. “I guess so. Maybe.” A question came into his mind, but he knew it could be devastating if he asked, so he settled for silently watching Kenny’s pencil glide across the paper.

After basketball practice, he couldn’t read it standing up. He had to sit, with his hands at his temples and the paper resting neatly across his knees.

 

_sorry i didnt want u to be mad at me, rly_

_im bi_

_admitting to urself that ur probably not straight is a great step and tbh more than i expected_

_well tbh i didnt expect anything_

_was just trying to help_

_im not gonna pretend like i kno exactly what ur going thru cus i dont_

_i didnt hav a super hard time coming to terms w my sexuality or some shit_

_its just a thing. like my hair color and my shitty grades. facts of life._

_but i kno its normal for it to be hard_

_so ur normal_

_and yeah u dont kno who i am, but i know u_

_and i dont think any less or different of u_

_and no one would_

_except for like, assholes_

_u can talk to people abt this. like u were saying, to stan or to ur family. at least, ur mom or brother._

_they arent assholes deep down rly_

_and yeah u can talk to me too ill accept anything u have to say with open warm arms even if its some super gross shit like u had a weird teacher crush on mr garrison and thats where it all started_

_dude please dont say that actually_

_but yeah. i got ur back_

_xoxo_

He was expecting something sly. Maybe a proposition. _“So you’re gay, finally ready to let me suck your dick?”_ Based on how their correspondence started, he figured that would be a given.

This, he didn’t know what to do with. He reread it, letting his basketball teammates trail out of the locker room gradually until he was alone with the note and his thoughts.

Was he… disappointed?

_Ugh. No, Kyle. Stop it._

He should be gracious. He _was._ This kid was understanding and compassionate, which was something Kyle desperately needed right now. Whoever he was, he had a way of… calming him down with a comforting mix of logic and empathy.

Kyle smiled and held the paper closer, ignoring the pit still in his stomach.

 

 

 

 

It turned out he didn’t need to wait long for the sly quips from his mystery penpal. By the next Tuesday, whoever-he-was seemed to deem that enough time had passed for Kyle to not get too offended.

 

_k so real important question time_

_whod u wanna fuck? guys only_

_id totally fuck stan sry i might as well admit_

_like i just gotta do that at some point_

_how about we make lists, like the girls used to. order of fuckability_

_mine is (most want to fuck - > least want to fuck, but u want to fuck all of them, u kno?) :_

_craig, stan, token, francis, pete, jimmy, clyde, butters_

_well shit i cant put too many guys on the list cus yeah_

_but i could go on and add more to the end and in between_

_ive thought a lot about this lol_

_xoxo_

Kyle raised an eyebrow. So, that ruled all of those boys out. …Not that he’d thought mystery-guy was one of them.

Of course, his response was of the type, “fuck off with that shit.” And his penpal must’ve seen this coming, because he continued to pester Kyle for the next couple of days. Kyle could’ve stopped correspondence altogether to avoid it, but he didn’t _want_ to. He _wanted_ to talk to this kid who he’d shared so much of himself with already. It was something that he looked forward to, amidst the pedantic grind of arguing with Cartman and slowly watching Stan pick himself back up from his post-break-up blues.

Oh well, he could always brush it off as a joke. Something not serious at all, because it wasn’t. Which is why, when it came down to it, once he was sitting at the desk in his bedroom, he didn’t think too hard about what to write.

 

_craig, kenny, token, michael, butters, tweek, pete, kevin_

_that’s the same number of guys you wrote down so it better be enough._

_i just don’t get the “thought” that goes into lists like these_

_ugh dude i can’t even put stan on there, you should know that._

_i don’t know where he would go_

_but i guess we have some similarities_

_i think everyone thinks craig is really hot, no matter what their sexuality is, so that’s not really surprising_

_you better not show anyone this you ass_

_also i’m not on your list? what happened to wanting my dick so bad?_

Though once he was shoving the note into the locker the next morning, he got to thinking again. Their usual correspondence, while delving into the deep and personal, also managed to remain rather nondescript at the same time. Mystery-guy didn’t want to give his identity away, and in turn, Kyle was careful about name-dropping, because—well, what if he ended up talking _about_ Mystery-guy _to_ Mystery-guy, without even meaning to 

Adding so many real names to the mix was risky territory—especially names which his penpal hadn’t mentioned yet. But, it was bound to happen eventually, especially if this kid was so intent to gossip about who was attractive…

Kyle became increasingly nervous the longer the school day wore on, but he didn’t regret the note. It was exhilarating—just maybe, a risk could pay off. Maybe this could help him figure out who his enigmatic penpal was.

“I have to drop off this late homework, so meet outside in a few? I wanna actually destress this weekend,” Stan offered while closing his locker, looking considerably better than he had earlier in the week. Kyle nodded.

“Yeah, dude. We can hang out all weekend, don’t worry about it.” _Mystery-kid wants to fuck Stan._ Kyle kept himself from pulling a face, smiling as Stan walked away. It was a strange position to be in, and had him feeling around five different emotions at once while not knowing what to do with any of them.

Before meeting up outside, Kyle checked on the locker. At this point, he knew how to do it perfectly discretely.

 

_hey i said i could add more in between and all around_

_ur obv right after craig_

_jk_

_but actually no i am serious, ur after craig and before stan babe xoxo_

_lol bet i just gave u chills_

_anyway yeah is that rly ur list? ur not doing it just to shut me up, like its gotta be real_

_not that its a bad list_

_its just interesting choices_

_there is a lot of thought that goes into it_

_for example yeah i put craig first because he is the universal first on any list of this nature_

_and ur second because ur you and ur sexy hot everything good 10/10 choice there. ur actually a good person and respect people and have a rly cute laugh and god i could go on._

_stan is hot and has a lot of good qualities. he cares about people a lot_

_token is better than most of the kids in this shit school in general, just like all around_

_francis has good hair and can actually be sweet when hes not giving in to peer pressure_

_pete is actually cool when he relaxes abt the goth shit and just tries to be himself in a normal way_

_idk u know, it gets u thinking about people. and their good qualities. maybe their bad ones too, but usually their good ones._

_think about it like a “what are people’s good qualities” exercise if that makes u feel better. if u wanna revise u gotta show me tho_

_xoxoxo_

Kyle’s stomach was doing flips, somersaults, and everything in between, so he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. This kid shouldn’t be this good.

He decided to ignore his emotions for a while, stuffed the note deep to the bottom of his backpack, and focused on everyone’s “good qualities” during that night’s sleepover. It wasn’t a party or anything—just him, Stan, Kenny, Cartman, Clyde, and Butters. Cartman threatened leaving, disappointed by how “lowkey and boring” the night was, but he stayed once it became apparent that no one cared.

Kyle observed. Stan did care about people; he wasn’t surprised that his penpal had said that. Even though Stan didn’t really want Clyde or Butters over at first, he sure acted like he was stoked to have them there and made them feel welcome. He was just that type of guy—friends with anyone. And he was doing a lot better without Wendy than anyone expected. Kyle let himself feel a little pride for his best friend.

Kenny was the same—friends with anyone. Approaching midnight, during one of the rare moments when his parka was off, Kyle let himself stare. Why had he put him so high on that list?

He made himself out to be so much worse than he actually was, Kyle thought. In truth, Kenny was more mature and selfless than any of them. And it was a treat to see him unguarded, showing the freckles dotting his cheeks and that slightly gap-toothed smile. Kyle sometimes forgot just how clear and high his voice sounded unmuffled, like the ringing of an angel’s bell.

Kyle blushed and looked away before anyone caught him. Great. Moving on before this got to be too much, even though he’d have to face it eventually.

Cartman. Kyle didn’t dwell on that too much either. He’d already, in the past, done enough dwelling on the anomaly that was Eric Cartman, and wasn’t interested in doing any more now.

Clyde. Clyde had good hair. Could be really nice at times. And was attractive. His dimples were cute. …Coming to terms with his sexuality was a bitch, but at least he was trying.

Butters. He had to admit that the kid had his moments of profound maturity, among all his moments otherwise. And he was genuine, which could be a rarity around here.

Kyle entered his bedroom Saturday afternoon with a newfound drive to write his letter.

 

_okay i see more of what you mean now. i thought about it a lot more._

_thanks, i guess. i mean, uh for the compliments of course, but also for sort of helping me feel more comfortable about myself. not that it isn’t hard or weird, but i feel more like me liking guys isn’t a complete joke now, with the way you were talking about all of them._

_so here, i revised it:_

_kenny, you, craig, token, clyde, tweek, david, jimmy_

_you put me as second on your list, so… sure wish i could write your actual name down._

_i mean, that isn’t the reason why i put you down. well. i’ll just do what you did and explain my reasons._

_kenny is first because to me he is honestly better than any of us and i think he deserves better, and if i could give him anything remotely good i’d do it._

_you’re second because even though you try to make a bunch of stupid jokes and be an asshole, you’re actually really sweet and have helped me a lot these past two months or so. even though i don’t know you i feel like—well, i do know you. even though you try to be secretive so i don’t know your class schedule or who you hang out with usually or what your family’s like, i do know your character and that you’re actually really sweet and empathetic and intelligent, and all those things that actually make someone who they are._

_craig is third because of uh, what you said._

_i agree with you about token and i feel like if we ever have a fling (even though he’s not gay?) he’s the type who i could still stay good friends with no matter what happens_

_i actually think clyde is really attractive and sweet when he wants to be_

_tweek is cute and considerate of like, everyone, and he actually likes me. i mean, not in a crush way, but most people don’t go out of their way to show that they enjoy your company, you know? but tweek does._

_david’s really cool and good at sports and more decent than most people i know._

_jimmy is just super understanding of everyone and i don’t know how he does it. he’s just really comforting to be around._

_and i still can’t put stan in a list but i did think of his good qualities too._

_he’s doing so good without wendy and i’m really proud of him and glad that he is just allowing himself to chill and be around friends and not worry about things._

_because it seemed like all i was seeing him do was worry, and it was draining to just watch and know that you can’t really do much to help? but now things are back to normal, or even better than normal, and being around each other just feels like home again._

_this is getting long so i’ll stop there, but again, thank you._

_XOXO_

Kyle leaned back and stared at his closing, apprehensive. Was this coming on too strongly? Or not strong enough? 

He had the rest of the weekend to look it over, contemplating each word, but in the end he didn’t change a thing.

 

 

 

 

That Monday, Kyle waited for a response with bated breath, sure that he’d at least get back _something_ positive. After all the flirting his penpal had been doing, he had to be happy with his advances finally being somewhat returned, right?

Kyle checked after P.E. class, only to face an empty locker. Well, at least he’d gotten the note.

Then, he checked after the last bell rang. Nothing. His heartbeat hastened; this was unprecedented. Since they’d started sending each other these damned things, Mystery-kid had gotten at least one to him per day, sometimes two when Kyle had basketball practice or on a P.E. day. Something was clearly wrong.

He paced a bit, wringing his hands together, before walking out and nearly missing the bus home. It was okay, he frantically thought. Maybe his penpal just hadn’t had enough time today. He’d get his response tomorrow.

He didn’t get it until Thursday, spending Tuesday and Wednesday checking the locker fruitlessly and desperately trying to act like nothing was amiss. Stan didn’t really buy it, but hadn’t reached the point of questioning him yet.

Kyle read the note right there in front of the locker, thankful that the few stragglers in the locker room were far away and eager to leave.

 

_remember when you were like “woah that letter threw me for a loop.”_

_thats me right now_

_idk what to say really?_

_im rly happy, everything that u said made me smile and i. love ur list. a lot, really._

_but i see how ur feeling, and im just afraid that i made a mistake here._

_kyle i rly like u._

_but i just meant for these notes to be something fun and silly, i didnt mean to get carried away like this_

_ur mistaken about liking me and im sry i made u feel that way with these letters, i guess is what im trying to say._

_because u dont know me. u know things about me that most other people dont. but that doesnt mean that u know my identity._

_u dont know my name, doesnt that bother u? saying all these things and these feelings, about someone who u dont know the name of?_

_i led you on. about who i am, i mean. because its true that i like you, but i made you like someone who you dont even know and who isnt even me and i genuinely feel bad about that, i didnt know it would end up this way._

_maybe im being a bit dramatic but i just dont want u to be hurt or disappointed. ever. u deserve way more than that._

_so we can keep sending letters but u were right before, i gotta stop flirting and all that._

_if u dont want to keep on writing after this tho i get that too. we can just stop and interact irl like usual and itll be completely normal—it wont even matter to u because u wont ever know it was me._

_up to you._

The grip of his fingers almost ripped the page. Kyle huffed, staggering back and forth before sitting down on the nearest bench, glaring at the offending lines of graphite. There wasn’t much else he could do but sit there, and the longer he sat, the more his anger turned to sadness. He felt numb to his surroundings, and he turned the paper over so he couldn’t look at it.

Of course, this is what would happen when he finally decided to give it a try. He bit his lip, trying to make sense of it all. Why was his penpal suddenly just running away? Playing hard to get? No, this was more serious.

_ur mistaken about liking me_

_u deserve way more than that_

He just wouldn’t believe that Kyle could like him—in real life. So, the only way around this was to face him. In person.

But without _one-hundred-percent certainty_ of his identity, Kyle didn’t know if he could take that risk of trying to confront him. Seventy or eighty percent wasn’t good enough.

That night, he debated sending a reply. Deep down, he wanted to. But when he sat down at his desk with a pencil in his hand, nothing came out. Everything bottled up once again. He avoided the locker room all Friday.

 

 

 

 

“I didn’t really get what Clyde was trying to say with that, you know? Like, I’m enjoying the single life for once, let me enjoy it. I don’t need to keep an eye out for ‘available girls’ if I don’t want to.” There was a refreshingly confident tone to Stan’s voice. They were having lunch outside today, and the two of them ended up alone together, watching from afar as Cartman antagonized some other kids. Not that they understood what his scheme was this time; it was something new every week.

Monday, and Kyle still hadn’t written anything. Being around Stan was the most he could do to take his mind off things. He nodded, staring at the snow-covered leaves that were barely hanging on to their tree branches, eager to fly free. “Yeah, it wouldn’t end well anyway if you got with a new girl so soon after Wendy. I mean, on what planet is _that_ a good idea?”

Stan hummed in agreement, but stilled, looking pensively at the ground from where they sat on a ledge near the swing set. “…Yeah.”

“What?”

“…I just don’t want her to hate me, still.”

Kyle frowned a bit, half at Stan and half at the scene before them. Cartman was trying unsuccessfully to gather a crowd around some kid. “...Well, how have things been between you guys?”

“Fine. I think? She says we’re still friends. Maybe I’m the only one who thinks it’s sort of awkward. I don’t know, girls are good at hiding what they really think, dude.”

“I think that’s just Wendy.” Kyle nudged him on the shoulder, and Stan looked up. “Don’t worry about it; you’re doing good, enjoying the single life, like you said.”

Stan smiled, though it was wry and short-lived. “Yeah. Thanks. Things don’t seem too good for you, though. Still busy with your mom forcing you to apply for that Jewish Learning Fellowship thing, or is it something else now?”

Kyle cringed. So _that_ was the lie he had come up with to justify his mood this past weekend. He sighed, and admitted before Stan could continue, “So, yeah, I know you don’t believe me. Sorry. I just—I dunno, it’s not even really that big of a deal. Just stupid stuff that’s frustrating me.”

“Yeah, I can see that. So, wanna tell me?”

He cringed again, and Stan narrowed his eyes. “…Uh.”

“We’re best friends, Kyle.”

“Yeah-“ The bell rang, and Kyle had never been happier to hear it, though Stan just looked disheartened. They jumped up, and Kyle faced him sincerely as they entered the throng of other seventh graders. “I’ll tell you soon. This week! I _promise._ ” Shit, he promised.

“Fine.” Stan still looked a bit put off, but Kyle seemed to have saved it with the promise. As he made his way to class, his thoughts were racing, determining _what_ exactly he just agreed to tell Stan.

That he was gay? Was he even gay, for sure?

That he had a stupid crush on a boy who wrote him letters? How _much_ should he tell him?

Kyle shook his head, closing his hall locker. This was just obnoxious; he didn’t even know how to proceed, whether he should write another letter or not. Letting another person in on the details would only make things more complicated. But, it was Stan…

“Hey, Kyle.”

He jumped, whirling to his left. Wendy stood gripping the straps of her backpack, no clear emotion on her face. Kyle looked around for Stan, and not finding him in eyesight, relaxed slightly.

“…Hey, Wendy. What’s up?” _Please be here to talk about Stan, and not about me._

“I know that you didn’t want me to bring it up again, but I have some information about that penpal of yours. If you’re interested,” she stated with resolve, as if she was performing a public service. Kyle nearly groaned, but raised his eyebrows once he fully grasped what she said.

“What? _How—_ Did you talk to other _people—_?”

Seeing that he was about to yell, Wendy held up her hands and glared. “Chill! I _only_ talked to Bebe. No one else, just her. Because I thought she would know something—and she _did._ So it’s not like anyone learned anything new, except for me—and now maybe you.”

Kyle matched her glare, not feeling too relieved. “Why would Bebe know something about this?”

“ _Kyle!_ Secret notes? That’s totally up Bebe’s alley! And she takes it seriously, I trust her, so it’s the safest bet—”

“Okay, just—” He shook his head, not wanting to get into the intricacies of the girls’ strange hierarchy, or whatever it was. “Just tell me before we’re late for class.”

Wendy frowned, but complied and continued in a slightly quieter voice, “So, Bebe is the one who put a boy up to this. Your penpal.”

Something in Kyle’s core, maybe his stomach, _dropped._ But he could only listen.

“She dared a boy to send a note to another boy—the one who he thought was the most attractive in the school, or something like that. She wouldn’t tell me who the boy was, though. Sorry. Sworn to secrecy. _But—”_ She leaned in more, and Kyle couldn’t help but do the same. “I have a way that you can find out who it is. If you want to.”

He inhaled slowly through his nose, almost dizzy. It’d been a dare. Okay.

But, that didn’t make all of those notes ingenuine, right? After all, this boy had to think that Kyle was the most attractive boy in school. And he chose to continue writing notes, about personal things, even. That made it hold meaning. Right?

“…What’s your way of finding him out?” Whatever the truth was, he had to accept it.

“Well, Bebe said that he always reads your letter _and_ makes his reply right at the beginning of fourth period, because that’s a class that he can be late to constantly and the teacher won’t care. Some bullshit class, I don’t know. And most other kids are in class at that time, including you, so he’s never caught. If you want to catch him, just place your own letter and then stake out close to the end of third period. You’ll have to skip a little class, but I can cover for you in math if you want.”

It was definitely an option. One that his penpal probably wouldn’t like—one that probably could have awful repercussions, depending on who was waiting for him in that locker room and what they would do. “…Okay. I’ll think about it.”

“Just let me know if you want my cover. See you in class,” she offered before hurrying off, and Kyle was suddenly met with a feeling of gratefulness towards his best friend’s ex-girlfriend. She didn’t have to go out of her way to help him—not that he was sure this would help at all—but she still tried.

Later that day, the walk home from the bus stop was unnaturally tense. Cartman traipsed ahead of them without a care in the world, and probably didn’t notice it, but it was very apparent to Kyle from where he walked between Stan and Kenny. No one was saying a word, or looking at each other. They just watched Cartman get slowly farther ahead of them.

Noticing that Stan was glaring at nothing, Kyle attempted to break the silence. Might be a stupid idea, but he had to try _something._ “Dude, are you okay?”

Stan turned to him and Kenny, glare still in place. “I dunno.”

After it became apparent that his best friend wasn’t going to offer anything else, Kyle scoffed. “Well, give me more than that. You’re clearly upset.” _And you were doing so well earlier, too._

For a second, anger flashed in Stan’s eyes, but it quickly died out and was replaced with something downtrodden that made Kyle feel like a shitty friend again. “…Yeah. Like, everyone is just… acting _weird_. It’s not just me imagining that, right?”

They were barely moving forward, now, footsteps sluggish. Kyle raised an eyebrow. “…What do you mean, everyone?”

“Like—ugh, both of you? I just feel like all my close friends are hiding shit from me,” Stan let the hurt clearly show in his voice, and Kyle looked to Kenny with a bit of surprise.

“I didn’t know—”

“Sorry, Stan,” Kenny finally spoke up, though his voice lacked its usual emotion. “I’m not, dude.”

Stan’s glare came back. “Bullshit. You didn’t even text last weekend—nothing. You’re way quiet, _all_ week.”

“I’m always fuckin’ quiet.”

“ _Not_ true with us, dude!”

“Guys, calm down—!” Kyle interjected, but Kenny was already walking ahead, waving behind himself in a half-hearted goodbye. Stan practically growled, crossing his arms.

“Don’t just walk away! The fuck?”

“Let him, man. Maybe that just wasn’t the right way to handle whatever’s going on,” Kyle offered, and Stan tilted his head in reluctant acceptance.

“But, I mean, don’t _you_ know what’s going on?”

Kyle could only let his arms hang loosely at his sides, at a loss. He was sure it showed on his face.

“You _do_. I mean, it’s not a coincidence that you’re _both_ acting weird. And right after I break up. Does that have something to do with it?” Stan was determined to do this now, it seemed, right in the middle of the sidewalk.

“No, dude, you’re letting yourself get carried away. Really. I didn’t even know that Kenny was acting weird.”

“So, he hasn’t been acting weird to you? Just me?”

Kyle searched his memories, ignoring the small voice screaming in the back of his brain, _“You know! You know!”_

“…Uh, not really. We’ve talked a little less, I guess. But I’ve been talking to everyone less, because I’m dealing with my own shit right now. Which I promised I’d tell you about.” That reminder seemed to make Stan relax a little, though he still looked miffed.

“I guess that makes sense. Will you tell me now?”

“Tomorrow.” _Shit._ Why did he say that? “I’ll, uh, tell you tomorrow. Just because right now everyone seems on edge—I don’t wanna cause more problems, man.”

“You _wouldn’t,_ Kyle. Not with me.”

“Look, just calm down, and tomorrow come to school with an optimistic attitude. No one is actively trying to hide a conspiracy from you or anything. And it doesn’t have anything to do with you or Wendy—or anything. I’d just rather tell you when you aren’t pissed.”

Stan stared at him for a few seconds, as if sizing up the validity of his words, before nodding. “Okay. I’ll trust you on that.”

“Good. You can, I promise.” He really needed to quit making promises on the fly.

 

 

 

 

The next day, Tuesday, Kyle came to school with a single page of notebook paper neatly folded in his pocket. It’d been five days since he’d gotten the previous letter; would his penpal even go to the locker room? Once Kyle didn’t respond on Friday, he might’ve assumed that they’d stop writing each other—and rightfully so, seeing how close Kyle had been to calling it quits.

Now, he could only hope that Wendy had been right in her prediction. If this didn’t work, then he’d probably just have to give it up. Do what his penpal suggested—go back to normal, or try to the best that he could, left with none of his hypotheses confirmed and, instead, mere musings of “what could’ve been.” God, he sounded pathetic.

In the morning, he stopped Wendy on his way to class and told her of his plan. She said she’d cover for him, excitement in her eyes that almost made Kyle roll his own. Why she was so sure things would go well, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

First period, he shared with both Stan and Kenny. When Kyle entered, the latter was already seated at the back of the classroom, talking to David. He sighed, sitting next to Stan a few rows ahead, who turned to him immediately with an expectant look.

Kyle met him with apologetic eyes. “After school.”

Though he huffed, Stan nodded. Kyle, strangely, gained a bit of confidence from the gesture. No matter how this ended, Stan would still be his best friend.

Classes were largely uneventful, and Kyle found himself growing increasingly nervous, nothing much there to distract him from the paper burning a hole in his coat pocket. Ten minutes before third period ended, he left class with the excuse of going to the bathroom, walking to the locker room with clenched fists.

Completely empty, just as Wendy said. The air tasted stagnant and cloying as he approached locker 222. For some reason, as he opened it, a part of him expected something to be there. But it was just as abandoned as it’d been two months ago, and he sighed.

Once his letter was in place, he moved to sit on the ground between two nearby rows of lockers, pressing close enough to the surface of one that he’d be out of sight to anyone entering. Every breath felt too loud, disruptive, and he looked at his fingernails as he waited.

It felt like forever, and he was so tense, expecting someone to walk in at any moment, that by the time he finally heard the creaking and bang of the doors, he almost let out a huff of relief. He stayed as motionless as he could while the footsteps sounded across the floor. In his anxiety, a stray doubt crossed his mind—what if this wasn’t even his penpal?

In front of the row of abandoned lockers, the footsteps stopped, and Kyle heard the familiar rasping of a locker door opening. Paper crinkled soon after, and all doubts fled his mind. This had to be him. After around ten seconds of silence, he steeled himself to peer around the corner, urging his brain to ignore his hesitation, ignore the possibility that he _might’ve_ been wrong.

He turned, and the first glimpse of bright orange affirmed that he’d been right.

From his current angle and the hood pulled up, Kyle couldn’t see Kenny’s expression, but he seemed to be reading intently. Just standing in front of the open locker, reading it right there. That must’ve been what he did every time; Kyle imagined him reading every one of his letters like this, taking in all of Kyle’s complaints and fears and secrets.

Slowly, he rose up stepped out from behind the row of lockers, though Kenny still had his back turned and didn’t seem to notice. He _had_ written quite a bit, he supposed.

After a minute or two, Kenny slowly lowered the paper with shaky hands. Kyle figured it was now or never.

“Hey.”

Kenny whirled around, staring at him with acute shock that turned to wonder in a millisecond. Kyle couldn’t see much of his cheeks, as usual, but he saw enough to know that they were red.

“…Hey, uh…” he mumbled, the parka only making it harder to hear. Kyle frowned a little, feeling his own face become red uncontrollably and the flutters in his belly dramatically increase.

“…Sorry that I didn’t answer sooner. I… just wasn’t sure what to say for a while.” He tried to break the awkward atmosphere, stepping closer, and Kenny nodded, though he also seemed at a loss. Kyle briefly wondered if Wendy would see this as cute or cringy.

“How did you know to be here?”

“Wendy,” Kyle scoffed lightly, and Kenny nodded again. There was barely a foot between them now, and yet Kyle still felt just as nervous as before. He opened his mouth to say more— _girls are too obsessed with this sort of thing,_ or _did Bebe really dare you to do this?—_ but everything was stuck somewhere in the middle of his throat. All he could do was stare, and Kenny’s eyes softened. Finally, he pulled down his hood, and Kyle took a breath in. He never did that at school.

Seeing his face, fully flushed and nervous and speckled with freckles and the cut on the right side of his nose, did wonders for Kyle’s confidence.

Kenny took in a breath as well before speaking, his unmuffled voice ringing with unease and hope. “Did you mean what you wrote here?”

“Yes. Of course I did.” He didn’t need to think about it. Wanting to show it, he held his hand out.

Kenny looked at it uncertainly, before cautiously reaching out with his own, their fingers loosely intertwining. They didn’t often get to hold hands without gloves on; Kenny’s were warm, if a bit boney. The two of them stared at their hands for a moment, before looking to each other again.

“…Dude. I feel sorta stupid,” Kenny finally chuckled, as if he couldn’t help it, a genuine smile gracing his face, and Kyle smiled with him. Seeing Kenny this way seemed to solidify that it would actually be okay.

“If anything, we’re both stupid. Now, we’re going to actually go to our classes, and then after school we’re going to hang out. With Stan, too, so you can apologize to him for being sort of a dick.”

Kenny kept laughing lightly, half in disbelief. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. He clarified through his chuckles, feebly squeezing Kyle’s hand, “It-It’s just because I didn’t want him to know—”

“Sure, whatever, just apologize. Okay?”

“’K-Kay, as long ‘s we can get time alone, too.”

Kyle’s blush returned with ferocity, but he didn’t reprimand Kenny, appreciating the unspoken acceptance that this was real.

They let go of each other as they walked out, and Kenny pulled up his hood again, and Kyle knew it wasn’t over because he still needed to tell Stan now. But the air he was breathing tasted cleaner, and his heart was jumping up and down incessantly all along his way back to class, and that was all he found himself focusing on

 

 

 

 

_Kenny,_

_I do know who you are. Please listen to me before you try to run away and ignore this._

_You’ve been there at times when I felt completely isolated. Things that I couldn’t even talk to my best friend about, I could tell you, and I was so relieved. I could tell you because there would be no judgement—I’d have nothing to fear from a faceless, nameless being, and that was exactly what I needed._

_But it was even better, 1000x better, when I came to know a face and a name and realized that there was nothing to fear from that either. I want you to realize the same thing._

_You’re the one who deserves better. I’m embarrassed, but I’m not ashamed or regretful of the things I’ve said, and I don’t take back anything. I feel stupid about putting you twice on my “boys I wanna fuck” list, yeah. But I’m not hurt or mistaken or disappointed that it’s you._

_I mean, at first, I was fantasizing that it was you. Then I was hoping it was you. And then I was scared that it would be you, because of stupid insecurities. But after your last letter I know you’re just scared too._

_If you’re unsure or don’t believe it, I’ll say it all again, to you this time. This isn’t to my penpal. It’s to Kenny McCormick: even though you try to make a bunch of stupid jokes and be an asshole, you’ve helped me so much in these last two months, and in my whole life. Even though you try to be secretive and tough and act like you’re not smart, I know that you’re actually really sweet and empathetic and intelligent, and those are the traits I think of when I think of you. I like you._

_XOXO Kyle_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought !! I spent. Way too much time on this.  
> Find me on tumblr @kylebroflovskiisgay <3


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